


give and take

by thir13enth



Series: jerza love fest 2016 [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Jerza Love Fest, Porn Without Plot, Shameless, Smut, WITH APOLOGIES, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: There is no question. She’s his goddess and she’s his queen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** worship (from [Jerza Love Fest 2016](jerza-lovefest.tumblr.com))  
>  **notes:** forgive me, for this is porn without plot.
> 
> slightly inspired by "[worship](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3TflASAFJI)" by years & years.

There’s a generous part of him that worships her — her dark eyes, her pink lips, her warm neck, her soft thigh, her scarlet hair, her every single fiber of being.

He wants to run her mouth all over her, and sometimes it’s hard to determine exactly where to start when there are so many delectable places to begin. But when once he’s made this difficult decision, there’s nothing more delightful than rolling his tongue over her skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He wants to treat her right. He wants to make sure that she gets every bit of indulgence she wants.

And so when she asks for love, he gives it to her.

.

.

He gives it to her — even if it’s before the crack of dawn and she nudges him awake because she’s woken up ten minutes before her alarm:

She’s split her thighs onto his hips and she rests her shaking hands onto his chest while she lifts herself up and lets herself fall back down onto his erection. His cock grows stiffer and becomes slicker with each pass inside her. She gyrates back and forth urgently, fast and faster, so that she comes before the hour, so that she beats the clock before time stops her. He helps her with an extra thrust, steadies her beat with his hands firm around her waist. He tunes out the sound of the morning traffic, the creaking of their bed, the rustle of pigeon wings outside of their apartment window, and just listens to her raspy pants, the slap of her skin on his, the squick of her wet folds around his pulsating cock.

He listens until she quivers and collapses. He listens to her breath catching up to her heart, to her whispers telling him she loves him.

He listens until the alarm screeches that it’s time for them to go to work.

But jokes on the alarm, they’ve already been hard at it.

.

.

When she asks for love, he gives it to her — even if they’re in the shower, halfway between dirty and clean, partially soaped and partially slippery:

He’s slammed her up against the glass and tiles. Her feet struggle to find resting places but they settle to wrap around his sturdy waist. Her arms hang around his neck and she pulls herself close — close enough that her pointed breasts tickle his skin and that her wet hair sticks all over his neck and chest. He can’t tell from the steam of the hot water and the steam of her lusty breath, but it makes her entrance that much slicker and that much easier to go all the way in at once. Her lips part and she mewls out loud before her teeth bite hard into his shoulder. He finds his balance, he finds his rhythm, and he finds the angle that makes her inhale the sharpest.

And when he thinks he’s hit gold, he sets himself up and then goes.

He doesn’t come first — it’s hard to release when he’s holding her thrashing body, writhing with pleasure, up.

But her silver tongue along the length of his cock afterward is well worth giving up the race.

.

.

When she asks for love, he gives it to her — even if the dishes aren’t even cleared from the table, instead strewn aside so that she could lay back on it:

His lips are still warm from the spices of that night’s dinner, but her wet center covers his mouth with an even hotter gloss. He flicks the tip of his tongue at her clit. He roughens her cunt with the blade of his tongue. She tastes better than dessert and much sweeter than an afterthought. Her thighs start to close in on his head, but he pushes her knees back down to the surface of the table, props her calves behind the backs of chairs nearby. He tests one, two, three fingers inside her glistening folds before he decides that he wants his cock inside and not his hand.

His hands defer to her breasts, and they squeeze and mold her without restraint.

She likes it hard, and it’s probably better that way because he can’t control himself when it comes to her anyway.

.

.

When she asks for love — regardless of when, where, why — he gives it to her.

There is no question. She’s his goddess and she’s his queen.

But there’s a very selfish part of him, too.

It’s the part of him that wants to get for every little bit he gives.

It’s the part of him that wants her to beg, the part that wants her to come all the way down to her knees, the part that wants her to stare wide-eyed at him like he’s a heavenly body in the night sky and like she’s the white star circling him.

He wants her to worship him as he worships her.

He wants her to say his name in vain when he’s slamming against her hips, cry out for him to have mercy when her clit is between his lips, shout that she wants it so hard that the next day she’s sore, tell him that she wants to sin — if even just only once more.

He does everything in his power to grant her desires, and while he’s nowhere near almighty — she gasps praises, she moans appreciation, she sighs satisfaction — when she comes, he thinks that having her is plenty good enough.


End file.
